


What Dean Saw

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, During Canon, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-19
Updated: 2006-10-24
Packaged: 2018-09-03 07:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8703382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "He tries to find some reason to be angry with Sam, some reason to tell him he's a fucking idiot, fucking stupid to have done it, but he can't..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: This was my first ever Supernatural fic, written after I'd seen a total of seven episodes. Heh. Angst is very very minor, Sam/OMC also very minor. It's all about the Sam/Dean. :D  


* * *

It'd been months, for both of them. As far as Dean knows.

He tries to find some reason to be angry with Sam, some reason to tell him he's a fucking idiot, fucking stupid to have done it, but he can't - not only because he's done it himself with some girl he picked up in a bar, but because Sam can never, ever find out that Dean knows.

Through the crack in the door, Dean sees everything. He tries again to be angry with his brother for bringing someone back to their motel room to suck his dick, wishes Sam could've just gotten it done behind the pub like the rest of the population of this shithole town.

But Sam's not like that, especially not now. And even though Dean's suspected for a while, it's still a shock to suddenly see who Sam's brought back.

The boy on his knees in front of Dean's little brother is just that - a boy. Must be barely 18, and Dean realizes he's glad Sam's _here_ with him instead of somewhere more public. He's glad that Sam, despite his impetuousness, _does_ sometimes think things through. A firearms fine can be paid; being caught in public with your dick in someone's mouth, especially in this backwater, would not be so easy to shake off.

Boy or not, he must be fucking good with his tongue. Dean finds himself hardening in his pants just thinking of what it must feel like, and tells himself to just fuck off and go to the bathroom to jerk off. Then Sam moans, and he's done for.

_This is your fucking brother, man,_ he tells himself, his eyes glued to the scene behind the slightly ajar door, his left hand rubbing slow circles against his crotch. _Fucking hell, that son of a bitch can suck cock._

Sam's moaning constantly, his head banging gently against the wall, his hips jerking as he fucks the boy's mouth. His hands are gripping the boy's pale hair, gripping so hard it must hurt, and the boy is making soft sounds of enjoyment as he licks and sucks and damn near swallows Sam's dick. Dean shoves his free hand into his mouth to stifle a groan when the boy pulls Sam's pants all the way down and pushes his legs apart. _Holy shit, he's going in..._ and Dean unzips his fly and wraps his hand around his erection as his brother, little Sammy, gets a slick finger pushed between his ass cheeks and further.

Dean can see his brother's cock, shining and glistening, and he feels a rush of something in his stomach, something that both sickens him and stirs him to further arousal. He finds himself wondering what it would taste like, what it would feel like on his tongue if _he_ were the one on his knees, his brother standing over him and thrusting his dick into his mouth. He tries not to think about the fact that damn, it's _Sam_ , it's his brother, and instead imagines that it would taste salty and hot, and would feel smooth and firm on his tongue. His hand on his own cock is a blur, and he bites down on the fist in his mouth as Sam bucks his hips and groans, the sound coming from deep in his chest, as he pulls back slightly and sprays come all over the boy's lips and chin.

_So fucking wrong_ , he tells himself as he comes into his hand. _Just... don't go there. Ever again._ He stands up quietly and grabs a tissue from the box on the table to wipe himself down, his head spinning and knees weak. He's just tucked himself in and run a slightly sticky hand through his hair when Sam opens the door.

"Uh," Dean says. He's glad it's dark in this room, Sam won't see the dull flush on his cheeks or the damp patch on his jeans.

"Thought I heard something," Sam says. He's looking as ruffled as Dean feels, and he rubs his nose nervously. "Didn't realize you were back."

Dean shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to be nonchalant.

"Yeah, just got in. That guy I was checking out didn't know anything useful. Um. I'm gonna take a shower now and get some sleep."

Sam nods and goes back into his room. Dean heads straight for the bathroom, and as he showers, he vows that not only should Sam never know what Dean saw, he should never know what Dean _did._

_Maybe._


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's got this funny look in his eyes, and Dean can't stop thinking about _it_ when he jerks off late at night.

During the daylight hours, it's not a problem. Dean just drives where they need to drive, the music making it virtually impossible for him to think about _it_ , the job distracting him enough that he doesn't flush and swell up in his pants every time he accidentally looks at Sam's crotch.

Dean wonders if Sam is ever going to admit to him that he likes guys, like _that_. He's kinda hurt that his brother wouldn't confide in him; they've been on the road for fucking _months_ , they should have no secrets from each other.

Well, _almost_ no secrets. Some things are best Not Mentioned, Ever.

"... so the dog said to me, 'you wanna buy some crack?' and I just laughed at it."

Dean nods. "Uh huh."

He's not expecting the cuff across the back of the head, and the car swerves on the road before Dean recovers from his surprise.

"What the fuck!"

"What's got you so distracted?" Sam asks innocently.

"Uh. Just thinking about Dad. Y'know." Dean pauses, and frowns at Sam. "A dog tried to sell you crack?"

Sam laughs, and Dean manages to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

~*~*~

They've just managed to exorcise a demon possessing a sorority house, of all things, and Dean's exhausted. A few of the girls keep thanking him profusely, offering to thank him more personally, but all he can think about is _bed. Sleep._ Sam laughingly shakes off the offers too, even though Dean did most of the work and really, Sam could quite easily have gotten a blowjob tonight.

Later, as Dean lies awake in bed trying not to think about Sam getting his dick sucked and the nasty feelings those thoughts create in his belly, he asks him.

"Why'd you turn those girls down, man?"

Sam glances across at him. He's sitting up in bed reading Dad's journal, and a look of panic fleets across his face before he blinks and calms himself down.

"Why'd _you_ turn them down?" he counters. Dean rolls his eyes.

"I'm fucking exhausted. Feel like a house fell on me." It almost had, in the shape of bookshelves, tables, couches and a couple of full-length mirrors. Sam had been the lucky one, doing the actual exorcising while Dean distracted the demon.

"Oh yeah." Sam returns to his reading, and Dean sits up.

"You didn't answer the question," he says softly.

"That's cause it's none of your fucking business," Sam snaps. "Why the hell does it bother you that I didn't go and screw some sorority slut?" He's angry now, and he snaps the journal shut and tosses it on the floor before he turns to glare at Dean. "Just... shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Stop worrying about me." He turns the light off, and Dean lies back down.

He can't sleep, and he knows Sam can't either. His brother's still frustrated; Dean can hear it in his breathing.

"When was the last time you got laid?" Dean asks, right out of the blue. There's a choked sound from the other bed, and Sam goes into a coughing fit.

"When did... fuck, Dean, what's wrong with you?" Sam splutters. A badly-thrown pillow lands on Dean's head, and he chuckles as he biffs it back towards Sam.

"Just askin', man. It's not healthy to go so long without a good fuck." Dean closes his eyes and tries not to think about Sam fucking him. Someone. Anyone. He's glad the light is off; it's far easier to have a heart-to-heart when the person you're having it with can't see your inappropriate boner.

"It's just not so easy for me as it is for you, okay?" Sam says quietly.

"Cause of Jess?"

There's a long silence, and Dean wonders if he should ask again.

"No. Because of... because let's just say I'd have preferred to have exorcised a fraternity house tonight, and then I mighta got some."

Dean grins in the dark. _Finally._ Sam must have been itching to tell him - usually it takes a lot more to weedle secrets out of him.

"Did you think I'd have a problem with that?"

More silence. "Yeah."

"Go to sleep, Sam."

Dean waits until Sam starts snoring before dealing with his erection. This time, he imagines fucking Sam, and it must have been a trigger or something because he's done in less than a minute.

~*~*~

A week later, they haven't talked about it, but Sam's looking a bit more relaxed. Fewer introspective silences in the car, less chewing of the lower lip (which does _not_ result in slight swelling of that flesh and then a corresponding swelling in Dean's pants) and Dean's glad his brother's a bit more like his old self.

Then he picks up some guy in a bar, and it's all Dean can do not to punch the guy's lights out.

It's just like it was the first time - Dean crouches behind the slightly-open door, watching his little brother getting his cock sucked. But then it changes - before he comes, Sam grabs the guy and pushes him face-down onto the bed. Pretty soon he's fucking him, just like Dean's been imagining, and right as Sam's about to come he raises his head and meets Dean's gaze.

_Fuck!_

Dean can't look away, can't stop yanking on his cock as Sam bites his lip, smirks, and comes with a groan into the guy's ass.

He hides in the Impala. Sam doesn't come to find him, and he hunkers down in the seat, peering over the steering wheel when the guy Sam was fucking leaves. There's no goodbye kiss, just a wave and Sam mouthing _thanks_. He glances around and chews his lip before going back into the motel room. Dean sits in the car for a long time, trying to think what to do, before creeping back inside and crawling into bed. Sam doesn't stop snoring, and Dean lies awake for hours.

A while later, he wakes up to find Sam sitting on the edge of his bed. He's half-naked, and Dean's treacherous eyes slide down his bare chest before snapping back up to his face. A guilty flush rises on Dean's face and he bites his lip.

"Something you wanna tell me?" Sam asks, and damn, he's being all stubborn and commanding.

"Fuck off," Dean growls, but Sam's not deterred.

"You watched me that first time too, didn't you?" he asks. Dean rolls over and buries his head in his pillow as Sam continues. "I thought I saw you behind the door, but wasn't too sure. Then you kept pushing me last week and I was thinking to myself, 'why does he care so much who I fuck?' and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but it kinda clinched it last night."

Dean's trying to ignore it, but the calm voice doesn't let up. Sam's thought about this a _lot_. The bed creaks, and Dean realizes Sam's leaning over him. He rolls over to tell Sam to get off him, but a hand slides under the sheet and wraps around his shamefully hard cock.

"Tell me to stop," Sam whispers. 

Dean doesn't say a word.

A while later he finds himself crouched between Sam's thighs, a cock in his mouth and huge, warm hands gripping his head. Sam's moaning and cussing and writhing under him, and Dean just shuts his conscious mind down and concentrates on the taste in his mouth and the fire in his veins. Soon after that, Sam's kneeling in front of him, hands clenched in the sheets as Dean fucks him, not even bothering to pretend it isn't Sam, and he wonders where all his stamina went as he growls and comes inside his brother.

Dean doesn't ask how long Sam's been thinking about this. He decides he's better off not knowing. They drive off, heading God-knows-where, and Sam has a foolish grin on his face as he hums along to the music. Dean just shakes his head and hums with him.


End file.
